Thoughts of an Unwilling Assassin
by Flipping Seltzer
Summary: An assassin is waiting for our boys. Fortunately she's not very happy about it. OC. No real pairings. Repost from previous account.
1. Chapter 1

An assassin is waiting for our boys. Fortunately she's not very happy about it. OC. No real pairings. Repost from previous account.

Disclaimer: The Supernatural world is all the WBs. But Hannah is all mine. Just ask if you want to use her. (Dirty :)) Sharing is caring.

**Chapter 1**

Thoughts of an Unwilling Assassin

It had been almost a thousand years since she died. Hannah twirled the straw in her diet coke absently. That would make her 1031. Counting her actual life years. Life span. Whatever. And it was 2006. 2006 minus 1031 was… 973. No 975. Not that it mattered. What was she doing here again? Waiting. Waiting for some punk ass kids that the _boss_ wanted dead. Boss, dictator, oppressor, whatever. Whatever? Was she starting to talk like she looked? Shit.

Being an assassin was not how she wanted to live her life. No. A thousand years ago she would never have dreamed… but it didn't matter. Nothing did anymore. How utterly depressing. Tomorrow she would go dancing. Yes. Dancing it was. A nice discotheque would uplift her thoughts and whatever feelings she had left. Did they call them discotheques anymore?

Hannah fingered the glock in her waistband and willed herself to open the file. The File. Uppercase f. Inside the innocent looking manila covers was the death sentences for two people. She didn't know who they were or what they did. Probably something really bad. Or good, considering whom her boss was.

Demon. Devil. Daemon. Fuckwad. Just several of his esteemed jackass' names. Really she was putting off opening the file just to aggravate him. And aggravating him gave her so much pleasure. Not that in the grand scheme of things her distain was going to keep him up at night. If he slept. She didn't know.

She knew he was watching. In the waitress. In the cook. In the air. Everywhere. All the time. But it didn't bother her because what could he do that hadn't already been done. After all her own mother had given her to him. For what? Life? Wealth? Hannah didn't know. After all she had been taken away and by the time the opportunity had come up to go home… it just wasn't anymore. Home. Was she afraid? Yes. But of what? That was the question. One million dollars to the person who knew the answer.

But it was almost 6 now. Almost time to do the job. She supposed she should open the file to see whom she should shoot at. But maybe she wouldn't. Instead she could just open fire on the whole diner. Yea. Just kill the whole batch of them. He would appreciate that. But maybe she wouldn't. She would just leave. Walk out the door at 5:55 and never look back. Yes he would kill her. Probably painfully. It would be worth it though just to piss him off that one last time. Go to hell or heaven with a final fuck you on her lips. But maybe she already was in hell. Maybe she'd just end up her again. How depressing. Yes, tomorrow was defiantly a dancing night.

She opened the file. Hello boys. Dean and Sam Winchester. How do you feel about dying today?


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The brunette ducked behind the counter as a bullet lodged into the wall above her. These Winchesters were turning out to be quite a challenge. For once in her life Hannah was having fun trying to kill someone.

She slid over to the end and shot two rounds toward the door. She might not like her job but Hannah couldn't let them escape that easily. She had her pride. Nothing happened for a few minutes. They were planning something. The immortal peaked over her barricade then fell back as the butt of a rifle slammed into her temple.

Hannah saw stars but managed to raise her gun. When she was able to open her eyes she was staring into the horrified face of the cook. Oh god. Then man clutched at his middle the bullet wound slowly seeping blood. His t-shirt blossomed red. What had she done? She pushed him off of her then threw the gun into a corner. Her whole body was shaking. The pounding of feet next to her drew her gaze from the dying man. One of the Winchester's, Danny she thinks, was kneeling next to the man attempting to stop the bleeding. The other one hauled her back by the hair, trailing a gun on her. Panicked she held her hands up in terror. No matter what she had been thinking she had no desire to die. And Hannah wasn't sure she would survive a bullet hole to the forehead.

"Wait! Wait, I can help him!"

"Lady you just shot him!"

"It was an accident. Please! He shouldn't have to die."

The one that was staring her down glanced at his brothers failing attempt to stop the bleeding. "Where's your gun?"

She pointed to the corner. Danny looked up from his efforts to stare incredulously at her captor. "Sam! What the hell are you doing? Shoot her!"

"She says she can help him Dean!"

"It's a trick. For Christ's sake she's a _demon_!"

"No." Hannah swallowed the chocking bile in her throat. "I'm not. I swear!"

The eldest stared her in the eyes. Sensing the test in his gaze she held it, trying to convey her remorse through the contact. His piercing green eyes narrowed and he practically shouted, "Christo!"

She met his green with blue and didn't flinch. "I am _not_ a demon."

He glanced back down at his dying patient. "I believe you. For now." He moved allowing her to slide into his place. A calloused hand landed heavily on her arm. "But if you kill him I'll kill you."

The assassin believed him. She looked down at the man and brushed his sweaty bangs off his face replacing them with her palm. "You're gonna be ok." To the boys, "you might want to step back."

"We're not going anywhere lady."

The man groaned. "Just a step or two. This is going to be big."

Not looking to see if they followed her advice she placed her free hand on the wound. Focusing all her energies on healing the damage she didn't notice as the glass began to crack and shake. Hannah couldn't tap into all the power that her demon master gave her but tried to channel as much of it as possible. Her blood began to feel like fire as the evil protested her actions. Fighting against it she pushed one more time, shoving all her energy into the wound.

The glass windows exploded outward and Hannah's head dropped to her chest. She couldn't breathe. Then her exhausted her body gave out to the strain and she passed out.

As she fell the stunned cook gasped for breath, sitting up and staring in wonder at the unconscious body lying next to him. Then he moved his gaze to the Winchesters and the rest of his restaurant. When his eyes passed over the shattered glass he looked quickly back to the hunters, "What the fuck happened to my windows?!"

**Chapter 3**

Dean stared in disbelief at the scene in front of him. That man was dead. Or he should have been. He had a headache. The elder Winchester wasn't a doctor but he'd seen enough chest wounds to know how long a man had after being shot. And that cook definitely should have been dead. Pushing away his confusing train of thought dean analyzed the situation rationally. If the gunshots hadn't attracted any attention the window certainly had, so they needed to split. Fast.

Fishing the keys out of his pocket he passed them to Sam and pushed him out the door. Then he turned to the girl. Take her or not to take her? The cook was still in shock and yelling about his windows so he wouldn't be any help. She wasn't a demon and although it was her fault the guy got shot, she had saved him.

Dad would want him to kill her right there.

But John wasn't here anymore.

So Dean scooped her up and hightailed it out. Sam was waiting outside in the car, he gave his brother a probing look as he dumped the woman in the back seat but said nothing as he peeled out.

They stopped off the highway one town later and handcuffed her hands and feet. Dean slapped her face hard to wake her up. "Dean!" Sam reproached.

"Dude, we need some information. And she's not riding in my baby just to blow it up when she wakes up."

"Well at least wake her a little gentler. Besides you saw how she fainted. I don't think she can pull off magic that strong again anytime soon."

Listening to his brother's reproof he shook her shoulder instead. The girl moaned as she woke. "Jesus. What a hangover."

Despite himself Dean chuckled at her dry statement. "I doubt he's gonna help you."

Their would be killer squinted open her eyes and looked at them. "Fuck." She closed them again. "I actually did it. Stupid!"

"Did what? Try to kill us? Yea."

Sam elbowed his brother and jumped right in. "Why?! Why kill us?"

"Because I was told to. It's sort of my job. But I was talking about saving that guy. Everyone's got to be a hero. He's going to punish me big for that fuck up. She tried to sit up but failed probably due to Dean's hand on her chest. She looked down at the offending appendage. "Watch the hands buddy. You've got to buy me dinner first."

He moved it a little lower to her stomach. "Who told you to?"

"The mailman. Who do you think? The fire demon of course! Are you seriously that stupid?" She glanced at her bound hands then turned them as much as she could to examine the palms. To the boys' surprise they were blistered with what looked like third degree burns.

"What happened? They weren't like that before."

"It the residual magic build up. My body can't produce magic naturally and when I push that much out at once I burn. Its like an allergic reaction."

"So you can't normally do that?"

"No. And I won't be able to anything else for a few months now either so don't go asking for a light show." She stared mournfully down at her burnt appendages and muttered to herself. "What a waste."

"Excuse me?"

"Going out because some Joe nobody couldn't stay out of my business. I'd rather you shot me."

"Going out?" Sam glanced questionably at his brother who was frowning in understanding.

"The demon idiot! I just fucked up royally. He's going to finish cleaning up the mess soon and come find me. And we're not going to square dance when he does!"

**Chapter 4**

"So run." Dean stated. Sam glanced at his brother again. The older man didn't seem surprised by the woman's thoughts. "Run, where he can't find you." The idea was so simple and straightforward. Just like Dean.

Finally she avoided the hands holding her down long enough to sit up. "Yea! That'll work. I'll hunker down with the Easter Bunny! But this really isn't the kind of run away mess." She shot them a sarcastic glance as she blew on her chafing hands.

" Well, err…"Sam realized he had no idea who this woman was. "What's your name anyway?"

She looked at him strangely. "Hannah." The name came off her lips awkwardly as if she wasn't used to saying it. The sun hit her eyes and she squinted, turning her face away. Remembering her headache Sam pulled out a bottle of Tylenol from her pocket and offered her two, ball parking her weight, "thanks."

"I still don't understand. You tried to kill us just because the demon told you to?"

"That's right."

"You're not very good at it."

Hannah narrowed her eyes and her features twisted into an angry mask. "Not very…hey buddy I'm very good at killing people. If that stupid mortal hadn't gotten in my way you'd be lying in pool of your own blood right now! I've taken out bigger game than a couple of kids." During her rant a slight English accent had slipped out. She huffed and turned around from the young man.

As amused as Dean was by Sam's dressing down and upset by being called a kid he was more worried by the pale tint to Hannah skin. "Maybe you should lay back down?"

"Don't tell me what to do, hunter. I've been killing people since before you were a thought in your mummy's pretty little head."

Naturally riled up by the mention of his mother Dean snapped right back. "So you've been a this a while, have you? So how'd he get you soul? Wanted to be famous, rich? Did your boyfriend stroll out on you? Wanted a little revenge? Well congratulations, you sold your soul! You should be proud!"

Sam saw that his brother was pushing it, "Dean."

"Fuck you!" The air around her crackled with energy.

"So? What was it?!"

"None of the above jackass," She lashed out with her bound feet, striking him in the ribs. The bruised ribs.

The hunter grabbed her legs and tossed them away, throwing her onto her side and rolling to his feet. "No. You say what you did or we leave you here! You want help, you tell us. Because I'm not gonna save your ass unless I think you deserve it." That was a lie; it was in Dean's nature to try to save everyone. But he was too pissed to be thinking clearly.

"I don't want your help! I'll do fine on my own."

He looked skeptically down at her bound appendages.

"Go."

"Fine!" Not looking at her again he pulled the handcuff keys out of his pocket and tossed it in the dirt next to her. Then he grabbed Sammy and pulled him toward the car. "Get in Sammy!"

"Dean. We can't…"

He cut off his brother, "Now. Sam." Channeling his father he slammed shut his own door and started the engine.

Startled into compliance Sam got in the car. Dean pulled back onto the road, leaving the assassin in a cloud of dust behind them. He never turned his head but Sam saw his eyes dart to the rearview mirror until Hannah disappeared in the distance.

Rage still built up, Hannah kicked out in the direction of the leaving car. "Shit!"

Her stomach rolled and she felt a tug in her midsection. He was reaching out and tugging her invisible tie to him. He would follow it right to her. Hannah began to sift through the dirt searching frantically for the key. At least she could put up a fight if she could stand. Damn Winchesters.

Crying out in victory when she found the key, Hannah tried to make her injured digits grip the small piece of metal. By the time she was able to pick it up her hands were stinging unceasingly. After unlocking her feet she tried to get to the key into the lock on her right wrist. After managing that hand her burnt skin tightened up so painfully she dropped the metal.

Her stomach jerked again.

Giving up on the bracelet hanging from her wrist she ran. Not fast enough though. Out of nowhere black smoke began to swirl around her. She dropped to her knees in defeat. Dead meat. Hannah didn't have the power left to phase to another location and lose him. As the smoke began to converge and form a solid figure she gathered her strength and rose to her feet. The son of a bitch wouldn't see her weak right before he killed her.

Without a human body to take over the demon had no physical form. So the smoke simply formed the shadow of a man, yellow eyes staring from the head. Its sickening, malice-filled voice spoke, "Hannah. My dear, what has happened to you?"

**Chapter 5**

The figure stepped closer and the assassin flinched but stopped herself from stepping back. The demons yellow eyes moved up to hers but she looked away, refusing to make contact. Rolling his eyes the underworld being let his gaze rove over her and then waved his hand.

In an instant the burns and black eye were gone. Conceding Hannah nodded her head in thanks then held out her handcuffed wrists. Another hand flick and it snapped open, falling to the dusty ground. 'Thank you sir."

"You failed." His voice was deceivingly light but Hannah recognized the simmering anger from experience.

Knowing that playing dumb was useless she jumped right in. "Yes. However, there were circumstances that—."

"Yes, that mortal."

"—Well he wasn't the assignment and I know how you don't like messes so, I…" realizing he wasn't buying it she fell silent.

"You what? Healed him? I'm aware." He raised her chin so she would have to meet his eyes. "Remember that your power is only what I give you. I was aware the moment you began the process. But don't worry. I fixed your little misdemeanor."

"Sir?"

"I killed him." Hannah did jerk back now, unable to keep the horror and distain out of her face. "What? You didn't expect me to allow him to live did you?" He sighed. " Your actions lately have been worrisome Hannah." He turned away and watched the horizon line. A few miles away a cactus stood by itself. He waved a hand and smirked as it caught fire. "You're not practicing with the others. Neom says your kills have been sloppy, unfocused."

"Neom is a fool."

"Yes, but a loyal one. The same can not be said for yourself, can it?"

" I have always done your jobs to the letter!"

"But just to the letter! The others, they enjoy it, revel in it. But you…" He glanced back at her and suddenly she was floating, immobile. "Little Hannah, never happy, always resentful." He dropped her and she gracelessly fell the ten feet down to earth."

Hannah spit out the sand she swallowed and glared at her captor. Fuck him. Why was he tying with her—just finish it. Sadistic bastard. "I gave you everything. Treated you like one of my own children." She sneered at the thought of those cocky bastards dead. What a loss to society. Reading her thoughts the demon snarled and she was thrown backwards by invisible hands.

"Insolent child! When your mother sold you to me you were half-starved and weak. Now look—you have lived, thrived even! And this is how you repay me! By joining forces with my would be destroyers!" He turned away again and regained composure.

When he turned back his eyes were cold and calculating, no longer alight with fury. "I'm afraid, Hannah, you've out lived your usefulness. But even so. I have one more job for you."

"Go to hell." Once again she flew and hit her back against a small, rock formation.

"Now, now, that's no way to talk. Besides, technically all you're going to do is sit. A passive accessory."

Hannah's gaze narrowed, confused by his vagueness and her headache. "Eventually Sammy's annoying little conscious is going to get him to turn around. And Dean Winchester is a sucker for a 'damsel in distress.'" He looked across the desert and chuckled maliciously. "When he see's you helpless on the side of the road Deano'll pull over, all fights forgotten."

"Of course, it'll help that you'll be dying."

**Chapter 6**

Fast as the snake he was, the demon slit open Hannah's stomach neatly.

Reaching down he grabbed the collar of her black jacket and pulled her back toward the pavement. She cried out in pain and he looked down, faking remorse. " I never wanted it to come to this my dear, but sometimes in war you've got to use the resources you have. You understand, don't you?" He shook her a little as he threw her bleeding body back where her run began. She whimpered and he nodded. "I knew you would Hannah. It's about the big picture—you always got that."

He cocked an ear in the direction the boys had left, "They'll be coming. I should go. He lent down to pat her cheek. Seeing the silver of a gun in a cloaked pocket of air, Hannah swung an arm out, mimicking a punch. He slapped her down, but not before she knocked out the weapon. It settled in the dust, the orange, brown clay of the Midwest road hiding its sheen.

She lay back on the ground, gasping, hands grasping at her middle. He scolded her, "Hardly an appropriate goodbye, Hannah." He weighed her up a moment " I do believe I might miss you. Now, be a good girl and just keep… doing what you're doing."

"Fuck you."

With one last smile he faded away, leaving her bleeding by the highway. Hannah decided to be rational about this. Fact one: She was alone with a very serious stomach wound. Fact two: She was the bait in some twisted power play. Fact three: if those stupid idiots didn't show up soon he would die before she could be bait. Fact four: She had only one gun, which she couldn't reach and didn't even know was loaded.

Not an ideal situation.

But it was workable. She hoped.

The woman decided that in a few seconds she'd have the strength to crawl over to the gun and see what she was dealing with. But only after the crippling pain was gone.

**Chapter 7**

Dean couldn't believe he was going to save someone who tried to kill him. Was he going soft? Too emotional in his old age? Or was it just that he couldn't say no when Sammy gave him the puppy dog eyes?

Ever since he was six and realized that Dean couldn't say no when he said please, Sam had been abusing his power, blatantly. 'One more piece Dean?' ' Just a little while longer—please?' 'Dean, we can't just leave her there!'

And so they went back. He would never admit it to Sam but Dean was glad they were. Sure he had been mad but—leaving her to die of exposure was a bit harsh. "Wasn't it around here somewhere?" his brothers' voice startled him out of his musings.

Something wasn't right. "Yea it was right here. I remember the mile marker."

"I don't see her."

But Dean did. She was a few yards farther, just a black and jean colored lump. Lying in red. Too much red.

Motherfucker. He never should have left her.

Sam saw her now too and was out of the door before dean even pulled all the way over. "Sam! Wait!" This was wrong. They were missing something.

Grabbing two guns from the back seat he followed his overanxious brother. "Dean she's really bleeding. We need to get her to a hospital, _now_!" They kneeled, ready to pick her up. Dean set aside his guns then rocked back onto his but as they flew away.

"I don't think you boys will be going anywhere." A shadow formed from dark mist, the demons yellow eyes blazing.

"You!" Sam stood angrily and unthinkingly charged. He was tossed away with a small wave.

"No…" the small plea went unheard by all but dean. The hunter looked down at the dying being in his arms. He had thought she was unconscious but her eyes were open, stormy blue orbs peering up at him. "Leave."

She was giving him permission to take Sam and run.

Well that wasn't happening.

Grabbing the first rock he found, he hurled it at the mist. To his surprise it bounced off his chest and fell. Now the center of attention, Dean was thrown, flying, he noticed, a little higher than his brother. Maybe the fucker wasn't being as careful with him. It occurred to him that this must be the demons earthly shape. To kill him now would be prefect. No innocents would be injured. No clean up.

But no colt either.

Damn.

His third flight slammed him into Sammy. The younger man fell straight down, dazed, but Dean rebounded, rolling back toward Hannah.

Before he tried to stagger to his feet the assassin grabbed his arm. He lolled his head toward hers. She tried to tug him closer. Seeing the movement the demon taunted her, "Now Hannah you'd best not squirm like that. You'll die before you see me kill your new friends.

Her eyes blazed with fury and Dean respected her little more for her passion. She pursed her mouth as she watched her controller. Then with more strength than the hunter thought she had left she tugged the Winchester on top of her.

The first thing Dean was aware of was her lips pressing against his.

They tasted slightly of coppery blood and Mexican food.

The second was the wet sticky substance seeping onto his shirt from her wound.

The third thing was the heavy weight of the gun she slipped into his hand.

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Chapter 8 Teaser

The man jackknifed to his feet and raised his gun.

The colt.

**Chapter 8**

Hannah moaned beneath him and it took a moment for Dean to process that it was pain not pleasure. He quickly rolled off of her, being careful to hide to gun between them as he did so.

Her face was pained but a small smile graced her features. "Not a bad way to go." She blinked her eyes slowly then looked at him again. "I've had better." Then she passed out."

When he looked back to the demon and Sam Dean realized they had been more shocked than him. The fire demon looked furious and his hand started to rise. Not willing to go down after that dean gathered his head and gripped the gun tightly.

The man jackknifed to his feet and raised the gun.

The colt.

Getting a first look at it, Dean realized it really was the old gun he thought his dad had traded.

The demon's hand dropped back to its side and he stared at the revolver in shock. He looked to the side and waved his hand furiously. Dean realized that Hannah must have stolen it. Fucking amazing.

"Stop! Stop moving right now."

The demon looked up from his side and grinned. "Why Deano, it looks like my little pet has decided to go through with her little rebellion. Too bad she gave the colt to you though. You and I both know you don't have the guts to make the shot when you need to. A least—that's what daddy always said—wasn't it?"

Dean's hand wavered but stayed on its target.

His adversary stepped foreword. "Only one bullet left kid, are you willing to take that chance?"

Images flashed through his mind:

His Mom and Dad smiling and proud.

Sammy, young and excited.

Hannah, knowing and passionate.

Then:

His Moms body alight on the ceiling.

His Dad tired and disappointed.

Sammy suddenly older and pained.

Finally Hannah, her face pale and eyes dimmed as her life slowly left her.

He took the shot.

**Chapter 9**

True to its wielder's training the bullet went right into the demon's forehead. Or where the demon's forehead should have been. As the hunter had pulled the trigger the demon began to disperse. The bullet went right through the mist but the magic in the metal must have done something because the demon howled in pain as it spiraled up and out of sight.

Dean dropped to his knees in despair. The last bullet. Wasted, because he couldn't seem to do anything right. Maybe his father hadn't just been angry when he said those things. Maybe he was weak.

A hand dropped lightly onto his shoulder. He looked up to see Sam looking down at him in compassion. Well he didn't need anyone's pity. He shoved the gun into his belt; Sam had enough to worry about without adding Deans messed up thoughts to his burden. "Come on bitch. We've got to get demon girl patched up and to a hospital."

"Dean, it wasn't…"

"Sammy. Just… get her legs will you. And throw down some towels, there's no need to get my car all bloody."

Since Dean was better at first aid he let his brother drive for the second time that day. The only problem was that Sam kept looking back at him all worried and shit. What a chick. As if Dean was going to start bawling right there and let out all his feelings. Jesus. Besides even if Dean wanted to feel sorry for himself he didn't have the time. He had managed to stem Hannah's bleeding but her pulse was way too slow and she couldn't keep her warm. "Heater on high dude. She feels like a Popsicle." Even that wasn't doing the trick but dean decided to pat her down before covering her up with the spare blanket.

Saying you were mugged out of nowhere then being found packing always made hospital stays uncomfortable. Careful to stay away from the stomach wounds, he ran his hands along her legs and found a sharp, hunting knife tucked inside her jean leg. Doing the same to her jacket lining he found only a packet of papers outlining his and Sam's descriptions and destination at six this morning. Creepy.

He tossed them on the floor to look at later then stripped off his own jacket to layer with the blanket.

"How's she doing?" Sam glanced back and ran the car over a huge pothole. The entire Impala jolted and Dean had to scramble to keep Hannah from falling.

"Keep your eyes on the road Dr. Quinn. God she's not gonna make it if you run us into a ditch."

Sam looked pained and ash faced. Dean realized this was reminding him of the time the demon trapped them and Sam had to drive. Shit, joking about an accident probably wasn't the best move right now. Dean leaned foreword to talk softly into his brother's ear. "I didn't mean it Sammy. She's fine, no harm done. We'll get to the hospital and they'll patch her up nice.

They did get to the hospital all right and the doctors didn't even question their story. Apparently well-meaning young men brought in mugged women all the time in this town. It didn't take much of an argument for Sam to get Dean to wait for news. And that was how Dean found out she was gone.

Sam was up and about probably roaming the halls for coffee. He, however, was happy to lounge in the ICU waiting room looking at a modern science magazine. The doctor, a woman who—in Dean's opinion—had seen better days, came into the room looking haggard. Dean knew that look. It was not a good look. "Mr. Wells?"

"Yes, that's me." Dean stood up; he always felt more at ease in a doctors company if he could bolt at any minute.

"You brought in Ms. Kiran?"

"Uh Huh."

The doctor looked at the chart in her hand. "So you have no relationship to the patient? It says here you found her on the highway."

"That's right. She said something about being carjacked. Me and my brother just thought we'd be good Samaritans." He grinned at her, playing the part of handsome, concerned, young man. God he was good.

"Well it's a good thing you're so chivalrous Mr. Wells. Another half hour and she'd be dead."

"So she's alright then?"

The doctor paused now, uncomfortable. "I'm not really supposed… you say she doesn't have any family?"

"When she was conscious in the car, that's what she told me. I was trying to keep her awake—that's what my first aid course said to do. I was right, right?" he tried to keep the amusement out of his voice.

"Of course. You did very well." She patted his arm and smiled. Dean smiled back. He had her right where he wanted her. "Don't tell anyone I said anything but," she glanced around. "Ms. Kiran was cut very severely across the midsection but we were able to repair all the damage. There was also substantial bruising on her back and head." Dean clenched his fists—he hadn't noticed that. "But nothing too extreme. What is troubling though is that she needs to stay overnight for observation."

"I don't understand. What's the trouble?"

"She refuses to stay. Won't even discuss it. She signed her treatment refusal papers and is getting ready to leave now. I'm worried about her stitches. If she leaves and exerts too much they'll tear. That's why I wanted to know if she had any family, maybe they could've talked her into staying."

"I'll do it. I mean—I'll talk to her. If _you_ think it'll help."

"You know what Mr. Wells you just might be able to. She's in 316. Give it a shot."

On his way out he told the nurse to look out for Sam and tell him where he went. Dean found himself smiling as he walked the hall. When he reached 316 he knocked once then walked in.

To an empty room.


End file.
